ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2156, 16 February 1880, Page 2

ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

“That Wairaate tire was a bad business for all parties,” I remarked to a friend of mine, a new arrival, the other day, who has had considerable experience in the Fire Insurance Agency line, in London, in his time. But my friend seemed to consider the Waimato fire as altogether too insignificant to talk about. His contemptuous look when I mentioned it, recalled to my mind the Aiew York man’s remark when he heard of the fire that devastated Auckland some years ago, when the Government Buildings were burnt down.

The Yankee laughed at the Aucklanders “ one house (i re,” and disparagingly remarked, 1 you mean well Auck., but you can’t conflagrate worth a cent!’

His Worship the Mayor of Ashburton lately took occasion to refer, in pointed terms, to the practice amongst local cab-drivers of conveying ladies of questionable character in their vehicles. A recent issue of the Ashburton “Mail” contains a letter in reply from a wellknown cab proprietor, who professes the utmost willingness to comply with His Worship’s suggestion, “ providing he will furnish me or any driver with the photos of the questionable characters, with a view to (heir identification.” The unfortunate Mayor,who is a grocer and wine merchant, has since been chaffed and reminded that driving these fair ones home is not much worse than supplying them with questionable luxuries and pocketing their ill-gottou gains.

1 notice the Yankees, who are without doubt the most ingenious people on the face of the “ airth,” have just introduced a new form of athletic exercise into their school and public gymnasia. The new exercise is known as “ carving the boarding-house turkey.” It is very simple, but requires well developed muscles and considerable practice to accomplish. You first obtain a turkey at any poulterer’s shop, such as is generally found on the hoarding-house dinner table on Sundays. Having had your bird roasted, you place it on a strong wooden block, and attiring yourself in proper athletic costume, proceed to dismember it with knife and fork. This exercise is guaranteed to develop the muscles of the arms quicker than rowing or throwing the hammer. Should any of my readers feel curious to try the sport, they need not send to America for the turkeys—the hoarding-house turkey is not altogether unknown in Xew Zealand.

Quite a poetical little affair is reported as having taken place the other day in Launceston (Tasmania). A certain resident of the place taking it into his head that a holiday would be both beneficial and agreeable, determined on treating himself to the same. Somehow, in the hurry of arranging for his departure, lie omitted to mention the matter to his better half, who was thus left in ignorance as to his intentions. The day arrived. Crowds thronged the busy

wharf ; a steamboat slowly putted away and “ went about ” preparatory to starting oft. Just then a well-dressed lady came rushing down to the wharf and made frantie°si<vnals to smn ) one on the boat. It was our friend off for his holiday, and the Indy was his wife! “ Stay with me. mV darling _ stay, and like a dream A-c.,” softly sighed the lady. “r m ’leaving thee in sorrow Annie,” plaintively responded the selfish husband from the deck of the steamer. And he didn’t seem to mind a bit.

The old store. A Home paper just to hand contains" yet another instance of “ high life below stairs.” The indignant correspondent states that about a fortnight before he was suddenly summoned away from home by an urgent telegram informing him of the serious illness of a near relative. He left the house at a moment’s notice, accompanied by his wife, leaving three female servants and a coachman to look after the establishment in his absence. On these domestics lie tells ushe imagined ho could thoroughly depend. But listen to the sequel! The master and mistress of the house said they would be back in a fortnight, but finding their relative very much better than they expected, returned on the evening of the fourth day instead. It was about 10 p.m. when they got back, and were surprised to lind the house u one blaze of light,” while unmistakable “ sounds of revelry ” floated on the evening breeze. Then that astonished householder began to put to himself the question whether he had arranged to give a grand ball on that night, and forgotten to invite himself V Pondering over this he let himself; in with his latch key, and there, sure enough, was a select company assembled, composed of maids and serving men, and all of them attired in evening dress ! The housemaid in one of her mistress’s newest and most fashionable dresses, and wearing a large quantitv of that lady’s jewellery, was doing the honors at a well spread refreshment table in an adjoining room, and bestowing the most languishing glances at an elegantly attired “.Jennies,” who was lounging on a settee close by. How astonished and dismayed those servants must have looked on seeing their master and mistress enter the room ! What a scene for a Cruikshank or a Leech to pourtray !

Thu Melbourne beer is just now regarded witli sumo little suspicion! The recent poisoning cases “on the other side” have begotten a temporary panic. Messrs Slumbeer and Drmkwator arc jubilant. “ Is not this a convincing proof of the pernicious effects of alcohol on the human system 7” ask these gentlemen. f should rather say it was. The fatal bottles of beer, contained I bear sufficient poison to kill fourteen people, and enough something or other acid to send a dozen eats into blue convulsions. No wonder the votaries of John Barleycorn have become a little cautious. The affair has been thus immortalised by a Melbourne poet : “ How can I drink without turning pale, Or toss off my glass with a mind that’s placid, When strychnine lurks in my bottled ale, .And my lemonade is sulphuric acid.”